


Just This Once

by ohhgreywarden



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I think it more or less works for all of them though, NOT between Ferdinand and Dorothea, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), everything between them is completely consensual, light trigger warning for attempted sexual assault in section 3, not enough to raise the rating though, oh yeah there’s implied sex in one of the sections, the rest are pure fluff, the route isn't super important but I wrote this with Crimson Flower in mind, the third section is angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:05:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27000127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohhgreywarden/pseuds/ohhgreywarden
Summary: Five times Dorothea tells Ferdinand “just this once”... and one time he says it back.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Dorothea Arnault
Comments: 12
Kudos: 56





	Just This Once

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by the dialogue Ferdinand and Dorothea have after the Battle of the Eagle and Lion and... well, it turned into this. The first section is just that little scene with Dorothea's internal monologue added, while the rest are all new scenes.
> 
> Unbeta'd but hey I edited this very carefully myself.

_i._

The Black Eagles are in high spirits following their victory in the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. As much as the professors insist that the feast is meant to celebrate all of the students who participated in the mock battle, it’s clear from their attitudes that many of the Black Eagles see this as a celebration of their house’s superiority.

Dorothea is quite used to being the center of attention after her days at the opera, so while she would appreciate more time to simply eat without other students coming up to her to congratulate her, she takes it in stride. It’s honestly a relief when Byleth calls the Black Eagles to their classroom when the feast ends. If she had to deal with Sylvain’s attempts to flirt with her yet again before he inevitably turned to another girl, she would probably scream. And her plans for the night definitely don’t involve making a scene.

As she and her classmates file into the dark classroom, Dorothea catches a glimpse of a pair of silhouettes running across the courtyard hand-in-hand. She can’t make out who the figures are, but they’re not the first couple she’s seen this evening. Everyone else is chattering animatedly as Hubert lights all the candles in the room with a flourish of magic, so Dorothea sighs to nobody in particular.

“Did anyone get the feeling that there were already couples forming? That’s not really fair, is it? I wanted to sneak off with someone too…”

She didn’t expect anyone to hear her melodramatic outburst, but perhaps she should know by now not to underestimate a certain bee.

“I was hoping for some tea after our meal anyway,” Ferdinand von Aegir says oh-so-earnestly. “Would you care to join me?”

It takes all of Dorothea’s self-control to keep from laughing, although if she were to be honest with herself, what she suppresses is not so much laughter at Ferdinand’s proposition as a charmed giggle at his sincerity. Indeed, ever since he presented her with a tray of sweets he had made all by himself, she had often caught herself admiring his open disposition and hoping that perhaps, somehow, she had misjudged him when he glared at her as a child.

She raises a hand to her cheek and gives him a coquettish sideways glance as she replies, “I suppose I can settle for you just this once, Ferdie.”

Before she looks away, Dorothea sees a radiant grin blossom across Ferdinand’s face. She twitches her mouth to fight the urge to sport a matching one.

_ii._

_Fetch thirty pounds of Oghma wolverine and return before preparations begin for dinner._

The instructions were simple enough to remember, but carrying them out was another matter altogether. True, Dorothea is hardly a feeble, wilting flower of a woman, but as a mage she’s not really used to carrying such burdens. And in the cold no less! For the first time, she begins to consider finding someone else to pawn her duty off onto. Caspar, for instance, or perhaps she could swallow her pride and attempt to charm Sylvain into doing it, or maybe even--

“Dorothea!”

Ferdinand’s voice is entirely too warm for the dreary late-autumn weather. Dorothea can’t muster up any annoyance at her classmate today. For that matter, she honestly hasn’t been annoyed by him at all since that first time they had tea together a month ago, and she has to keep reminding herself that she’s not supposed to like him.

But right now, the only emotion she feels upon hearing his voice is _relief_.

“Ferdie! What great timing you have!”

Dorothea gives him a dazzling smile as she turns to face him. His cheeks and nose are flushed from the cold and he has a heavy scarf wrapped around his neck, and since he’s shot up a few inches since the beginning of the school year, his sleeves no longer cover the hems of his gloves. Nevertheless, he seems to be facing the cold with the same boundless cheerfulness with which he approaches most other things in life.

Ferdinand cocks his head to the side, and Dorothea is reminded of a puppy. A lanky, unfairly handsome puppy.

“Great timing? What do you mean?”

“I’m supposed to go to the market to get thirty pounds of meat for the kitchen,” Dorothea replies with an exaggerated sigh. “I just don’t know if I’ll be able to carry all that.”

With an absolutely dazzling smile— _stupid Ferdie and his stupid, gorgeous smile_ —he says exactly what Dorothea hopes to hear.

“Do not worry, Dorothea! I will gladly accompany you and help you carry it!”

“Oh, thank you so much, Ferdie! How will I ever repay you?”

She knows she’s going over the top with her gratitude, but her mind is already racing through the monastery to figure out where the coziest place to warm up would be. _Perhaps the common room?_

“That is very kind of you, but all the thanks I need is your company on the walk.”

_Wait._

“Of—of course.”

 _Right._ Ferdinand wanted to _accompany_ her to and from the market, not do her entire job for her. Visions of curling up beside a fire fade from her mind as she looks back at her companion.

He’s still smiling, of course he is, but it’s something smaller, fonder. Dorothea turns away from his gaze and bites her lip. She hopes that he assumes the flush in her face is only from the cold. _She_ hopes it’s only from the cold.

“Well, lead on, Ferdie. I’ll only need your help to do my job just this once…”

_iii._

Dorothea knew it was a mistake from the beginning. Before the beginning, really. Sure, that knight had seemed nice enough at first, and was the first person she’d gone on a date with in months ( _other than Ferdinand,_ her brain supplies), but in hindsight she should have trusted her instincts that told her she shouldn’t have to settle for simply _nice enough_.

Besides, he hadn’t actually been all that nice, had he? A nice man wouldn’t have made her cry on a bench in the cold of a Lone Moon night after he tried to—she didn’t want to think about it.

“Dorothea? Is something the matter?”

She’s no longer surprised by Ferdinand’s uncanny ability to find her when she needs help. And she does need help, even if the first words out of her mouth are “Of course something’s the matter, why would I be crying otherwise?”

She winces at how harsh her voice sounds and looks up at Ferdinand’s face through watery eyes. He doesn’t seem to be offended, at least; his expression is soft, concerned. Her chest tightens with a pang of the longing she’s felt for months, a desperate hope that her first impression of him was wrong.

“I’m sorry, that was rude of me,” she mutters as her eyes drop to where her arms are crossed over her chest in a pitiful imitation of a hug.

“May I sit?”

Dorothea nods and wipes at her eyes. Ferdinand takes the opposite end of the bench, his body turned slightly towards her.

“Is it—is it alright with you if I ask what is wrong?” he asks quietly.

She hesitates. Her life has never been one meant for vulnerability, for letting her guard down and expressing her true feelings to anyone. That’s always been a certain way to be hurt later.

But Ferdinand’s life was different. All that coddling and pampering and yet he has never treated her with anything less than kindness during their time at the academy. In fact, if she were a softer person and he not the boy who had given her that look all those years ago… If they were different people, they would make a marvelous pair, she knows.

She also knows, at least, that he is not the kind of man to use her vulnerability against her, and so she replies.

“Oh, Ferdie, where do I even begin?”

She takes a steadying breath to cut off a fresh sob. There’s the truthful place to start, of course, but if she tells him that her attempts to find a suitable spouse had all but stopped after that first night they had tea together, she’ll have to confront things she would really rather leave unexamined.

So she says, “I went on a date with one of the knights this evening. He…”

Another wave of tears comes over her. She covers her mouth with a hand to choke back the sound of her sobbing.

Ferdinand shifts slightly beside her, lifting his hand as though he wants to—what? To rub her back? Embrace her? He lets the hand fall to the bench instead. Dorothea pretends she didn’t see.

“Sorry, it’s just… I thought this part of my life was over, you know?” She takes a steadying breath and speaks to Ferdinand’s hand on the bench. “I thought when I left the opera, I wouldn’t have to deal with men pawing at me, or—or trying to force me to touch them, or—”

Ferdinand gasps sharply. “That man cannot get away with this!” His hand balls into a fist. “What was his name? We must report him immediately to Captain Jeralt or—”

Dorothea aches. Apart from Manuela, nobody has ever cared to stand up for her other than she herself. Until now. Yet again, she feels that longing to file away at her rough edges until she is a new person who can let herself be so cherished by Ferdinand.

But that is not who she is, and no matter how close they get, Ferdinand still does not understand her world.

“Ferdie, it’s okay, we don’t have to—”

“Then at least allow me to challenge—”

“Ferdinand!”

He falls silent as her shout echoes through the courtyard. She meets his eyes, those wide, innocent amber eyes full of so much concern that they pull another tiny sob from her.

“I don’t want to cause trouble,” she says, and he opens his mouth as if to protest. “He only kissed me. I swatted his hand away before he could get it up my skirt.”

“But that is—”

“I know, Ferdie. I know it’s not right, but if I report him people will talk, and…” She swallows down another sob and shakes her head. “I’ll be fine. I will. I always am.”

She knows he can see right through the smile she plasters on her face, but this time he doesn’t try to argue.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Later, Dorothea will blame her response on the way she felt when he offered to defend her honor, even as she knows her reasons run far deeper.

“Can you kiss me, Ferdie?” His eyes go wider than she’s ever seen them, full of surprise and something that might be hope. “Just this once. I want to get the taste of that man out of my mouth.”

“Dorothea, I…” Ferdinand’s eyes flick to her lips, briefly, before he blinks and meets her gaze again. “I thought you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you. I don’t know if I ever really hated you.”

“Then how _do_ you feel about me?”

“I…”

Dorothea wishes she had an answer for him. She wishes she could say something simple and clear-cut like _“you’re my friend”_ or _“I still dislike you”_ or even _“I love you”_ but all of those phrases are equal parts truth and lie. She looks away and hears Ferdinand take a deep breath.

“There is nothing in the world I want more than to kiss you,” he says, and somehow Dorothea is not surprised to hear it. “But I do not want to take advantage of you in this state. I would be no better than that knight if I did.”

He takes another deep breath, and out of the corner of her eye she sees that he is looking at his feet. “When you can tell me how you feel about me… perhaps then. But for now, I cannot do it.”

Dorothea turns to look at Ferdinand. She studies the upward slope of his long, noble nose and the freckles sprinkled across it.

_He truly is a beautiful man. And kind. If only…_

She shakes her head. Those are not thoughts for this version of Dorothea to have.

_iv._

In the five years since Dorothea last set foot in Garreg Mach, it seemed at first that everything had changed.

The once-pristine monastery had changed, with parts fallen into disrepair and others transformed to serve as a military base.

Her friends had changed, having grown older, some taller, some more serious, all more determined.

And Dorothea herself had changed. She no longer wants to pretend to be happy when she is not, or that she desires nothing more than to marry well and abandon all other concerns.

But some things have not changed at all.

Her room on the lower floor of the dormitories looks almost exactly as she had left it. That one floorboard next to the third table on the left in the library still creaks when she steps on it.

And, most infuriating and refreshing of all, the way her heart twists with an unholy mixture of longing and nerves whenever she sees Ferdinand von Aegir is exactly the same as it was all those years ago.

True, Ferdinand is one of the people who has changed most since they fled Garreg Mach all those years ago. He’s filled out, his broad shoulders and strong arms finally catching up to the growth spurt he had while they were students, and his general’s attire accentuates his form beautifully. His long fiery mane of hair matches his new look, and quite frankly he resembles a character straight out of one of the more sentimental operas Dorothea has performed.

He’s lost some of his youthful naïveté, too, facing the world like a serious man of war instead of a wide-eyed schoolboy. But he still has that charming smile that makes Dorothea weak at the knees in spite of herself.

In fact, he’s turning that very smile on her now.

It’s scarcely been a week since Byleth was found once more, miraculously alive and barely changed, and already morale among the troops is better than Dorothea has ever seen it.

Those soldiers from the imperial ranks who know how to play musical instruments have found one another, it seems, and arranged an impromptu concert on the grass in front of the old classrooms. Even she was cheered up by the lively music; she’d run to the courtyard as soon as she heard the first strains of some vaguely familiar folk song echoing through the walls.

Ferdinand is already watching the musicians when Dorothea arrives. He spots her immediately and his face lights up.

“Dorothea!” He dashes over to her, grinning broadly and holding out a hand. “You must dance with me!”

For a moment, Ferdinand seems transformed back into the boy he had been at the academy, all puppy-dog eyes and earnest smiles. Dorothea blinks herself back to the present.

“I _must_ dance with you?” she teases, trying to quell the fluttering in her stomach. “My, Ferdie, that’s no way to ask a woman to dance, is it?”

He laughs into a deep bow. “My sincere apologies, my lady,” he says with a smile that would look roguish on anyone else, but on him is simply sweet. “Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?”

Ferdinand rises from his bow with his hand stretched out to Dorothea once more. She glances briefly around the courtyard, where a few of the people watching the musicians have already started dancing either alone or in pairs; she spots Petra among the solo revelers. Her eyes return to her companion.

“Very well,” she replies with a smile of her own. “I’ll dance with you. But just this once!”

Before she can even finish speaking, Ferdinand pulls her to the improvised dance floor on the grass. He twirls her into the first steps of a country dance she knows to be from the west of Adrestia, perhaps a little past Aegir territory. Ferdinand seems to know it well. Dorothea, too, has studied this style of dance and falls easily into step with him.

“I hope you have not forgotten, Dorothea,” Ferdinand says, not even out of breath as they link arms and skip in a small circle, “that we have danced together before.”

Of course she hasn’t forgotten; while it is true that she danced with many people after winning the White Heron Cup back in their schooldays, there was no denying that Ferdinand had been her most skilled partner, even with the excessive flourishes he added to his movements.

“That was different,” she says, and she’s not sure if the swooping feeling in her stomach comes from the way Ferdinand lifts her by the waist and spins her around or from something else.

He gives her a smile far too intimate for such a lively dance.

“If you say so,” he says softly before twirling her again.

As the band plays on and Ferdinand continues to perfectly match her moves, Dorothea finds herself thinking it might not be so bad if he makes a liar of her this time.

_v._

Ferdinand and Dorothea are among the last people in the dining hall. Sometimes they eat so slowly when they dine together that their food is unbearably cold by the time they finish, engrossed as they are in talking to one another. And staring at each other. And, well, generally enjoying being together.

_Together._

After Ferdinand’s revelation in the cathedral, there was no longer any reason for Dorothea to resist the pull she had long felt towards him. Their relationship has not been without challenges and missteps, but by now they’ve settled wonderfully into being a couple.

Honestly, Dorothea is a little annoyed at her past self for not asking Ferdinand about their childhood meeting sooner if it meant she could have been admiring him without shame all this time. And… well. There are certain other aspects of their relationship she also wishes she could have experienced earlier.

Ferdinand looks handsome as ever even as he scowls down at the cold remains of vegetables on his plate and pokes them with his fork.

“Are you really still going to eat that?” Dorothea asks from across the table. She’s long since abandoned her own plate in favor of conversation.

“I suppose not,” he sighs. He sets down his fork and leans back, stretching his arms. “I think it might finally be time to move on to dessert.”

“Dessert? Or…” Dorothea gives him a sultry look and runs her foot up the inside of one of his thighs. “ _Dessert?_ ”

She watches him swallow, then glance quickly around the room before replying in a low voice. “I was thinking of sweets, but I suppose I could be convinced otherwise…”

“Good,” Dorothea purrs as she stands. She circles the end of the table until she’s behind Ferdinand. “Because I have an idea of what _else_ you could eat tonight…”

But even after both are well-satisfied, it seems that Ferdinand has not forgotten about sweets.

“It occurs to me, Dorothea,” Ferdinand says as they lie tangled together in her bed, “that I have never tasted your cooking, while you ate those treats I made for you years ago.”

Dorothea snorts inelegantly into his shoulder. “I doubt you’d enjoy anything I could cook for you. I can make you an egg, maybe.”

Ferdinand chuckles, and Dorothea presses herself closer to him, enjoying the vibrations through his body. “An egg! That hardly seems a fair repayment for my efforts!”

“Oh, you want me to _repay_ you for your treats, Ferdie?” She props herself up on her elbow and looks down at her lover with a slanted smile. He nods, his expression mirroring hers. “Just don’t complain when it’s not up to your noble standards.”

“Nonsense.” He sits up slightly to press a quick kiss to her lips. “I am sure anything you make will be divine.”

~~~~~~~~

Dorothea curses when she pulls the tray of cookies from the oven. The recipe Mercedes had kindly given her said they should be “golden-brown” but these are decidedly just _brown_.

With a heavy sigh, she gets to work scraping the cookies off the tray and onto the cooling rack. It takes considerably more effort than she expected, but once all eleven cookies are on the rack—the recipe was supposed to make a dozen but Dorothea’s scoops had clearly been too large—she pulls off her apron and heads to the door.

Ferdinand is already standing outside when she opens it.

“Oh, hi Ferdie.” Dorothea gestures him in. She tries to sound cheerful, but something like the stage fright she hasn’t experienced since she was a child is welling up inside her. “You’re just in time!”

“I can see,” he says with a smile. That smile immediately falters when he spots the cookies. “It certainly smells… interesting.”

She laughs nervously. “Well, hopefully they taste better than they smell.”

Ferdinand picks up one of the rounder cookies, and Dorothea takes the smallest.

“I wish we had some tea to go with these, but perhaps I can make some later,” he says as he turns the cookie over.

She smiles; _typical Ferdie_ , she thinks fondly.

“Cheers?” Dorothea holds her cookie out towards Ferdinand.

“Cheers.” He taps the cookies together. A particularly burned edge of his falls to the ground.

They bite into the cookies at the same time, and also at the same time sport matching expressions of confused disgust. Ferdinand swallows down his mouthful so quickly that he ends up coughing slightly.

“I must say, I am somewhat impressed,” he says, setting the rest of his cookie back on the cooling rack. “You managed to burn the outside but leave the inside completely raw. That is quite a feat, my love.”

Dorothea flushes and hangs her head. “The oven ended up hotter than the recipe called for so I just… baked them for a little less time to compensate. I guess that’s where I went wrong.”

Ferdinand wraps his arms around her and she buries her face in his chest. He kisses the top of her head. “I suppose there had to be one thing you cannot do well.”

_How has he gotten so good at knowing just what to say?_

She giggles and kisses him quickly. When she pulls back, Ferdinand’s eyes go wide with inspiration.

“I know! We shall go into town to buy some pastries and we can eat _those_ with tea!”

He lets go of Dorothea and starts shoving her pitiful cookies into a waste bin. Dorothea idly trails her finger through some flour on the counter as she watches him.

“Remember when I first agreed to have tea with you?” she asks. “And I told you it would be ‘just this once’?”

Ferdinand returns to her side and leans against the counter with a grin. “I also recall that you told me several other times that we would only do something ‘just this once’ and that every time, it proved untrue.”

She smiles back. “Well, I think I can safely say that I will only bake for you _just this once_.”

She punctuates her words by poking the tip of Ferdinand’s nose with her flour-covered finger and dissolves into a fit of giggles. After a moment of stunned silence, he begins to laugh as well. He pulls her into an embrace and they share a giggly kiss.

“Come _on_ ,” Ferdinand says through his laughter, grabbing Dorothea’s hand and leading her to the door. “Let us get to the bakery quickly so the best pastries will still be there!”

“Wait, Ferdie! You still have flour on your nose!”

_+_

Dorothea doesn’t believe in destiny. The world has been far too harsh to her to allow her to think that there could possibly be some guiding hand out there in charge of her life. Everything good she has came from her own hard work and efforts.

Still, there are times when she wonders if her chance meeting with Ferdinand as a child had been fate.

She had no way of knowing back then, of course, that the timid little boy with hair the color of fire looked at her not with disgust but with awe. She certainly had no way of knowing that nearly a decade and a half later that same boy, now grown into a dashing young man, would be the person she loved most in the world. Life has a funny way of working out, sometimes.

 _So maybe my life did turn out like a fairy-tale_ , Dorothea thinks to herself as she treks to the Goddess Tower in the brilliant sunset. _And by whatever gods may exist, I deserve a fairy-tale ending._

Ferdinand waits for her there, just as she expected. His smile when he sees her outshines the setting sun. She nearly runs the rest of the way to him.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Dorothea says breathlessly as she reaches her lover. She knew he would be here, of course, so her attempt at humor is intended more to calm her sudden case of nerves than anything else. There’s really only one reason for them to meet here, after all. “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long.”

“Not at all,” Ferdinand replies. He takes her hand and gives her knuckles a gentle kiss. “I have not fainted from my nerves, at the very least.”

Dorothea cups Ferdinand’s cheek in her free hand. “So you’re nervous too?” She giggles at his tiny nod. “I don’t know why we’re so nervous. We already know what I’m going to say!”

Ferdinand laughs too, his cheeks coloring slightly. “I suppose that is true, but still, I will only get to ask just this once!”

“‘Just this once,’ huh?”

She takes a step closer until their bodies are nearly pressed together. He smiles and touches his forehead to hers.

“Just this once, I will ask… be my wife?”

Dorothea closes the small distance between their lips.

“Yes, but not _just this once_ ,” she whispers into the kiss. “Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on twitter at [YourGirlRatBaby](https://twitter.com/YourGirlRatBaby) if you want to talk ferdithea! Or other stuff. That's cool too.
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


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